


Those Who Wait

by notavodkashot, temporalDecay



Series: Sights On Heaven [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Discussion of past character death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3658137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notavodkashot/pseuds/notavodkashot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporalDecay/pseuds/temporalDecay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ignorance is bliss. (Not always.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Who Wait

**Author's Note:**

> My April's Fools prank for 2015 was to post this little side-story instead of Chapter 4 of Heaven. People were more or less amused (some more than others.)
> 
> Nonetheless! This is actually a story in continuity with Heavenverse... just not the alpha timeline where the action actually happens. 0w0

“They tried to kill Karkat.” 

Feferi choked on her tea. Aradia hid a smile as she sauntered over to sit on the available chair. 

“What,” The Empress managed after a moment, “ _again_?” 

“Yep,” Aradia shrugged, reaching out to pour herself a cup. “To their credit, they got as close as anyone’s gotten in the last hundred sweeps.” She paused meaningfully. “They didn’t realize Equius was around.” 

“Oh dear,” Feferi winced. And then, because it merited repeating. “Oh _dear_.” 

“It’s not that bad,” Aradia offered brightly, winking. “They didn’t really get close enough to do anything. Again, because they didn’t realize Equius was there.” 

Sometimes, Feferi wondered if there was something else she could do, to ensure Karkat’s life wasn’t threatened anymore. Or at least not as often as it was. But she’d tried everything, from edicts to public announcements to that short-lived stunt of claiming him as a matesprit. (She’d have wanted to try for a moirail, it seemed all the more believable, but Gamzee would have… objected.) It seemed so unfair, all he really wanted was to make things better for other trolls, but prejudice seemed so thick and widespread sometimes that it was disheartening to even try. 

“Any idea who’s behind it?” Feferi asked after a moment, tracing the frosting design on a cookie with the tip of a claw. 

Aradia snorted. 

“Not really,” she shook her head. “And it’s unlikely we ever will, last I checked, Equius and Gamzee where still at it.” 

“Gamzee?” Feferi felt a slight migraine radiating from behind her eyes. 

“They _did_ account for Gamzee,” Aradia offered helpfully, nodding almost in admiration to the would-be murderers of their friend. “But they sort of really didn’t count on Karkat shrieking in surprise when Equius’ punched someone’s head off. Gamzee reacted… exactly like you’d have expected Gamzee to react.” 

“Oh god.” 

Aradia nodded sagely and popped a cookie into her mouth. 

“Yep,” she said, in that barely-restrained gleeful tone that made Feferi wonder about her, sometimes. 

It wasn’t fair, though, to doubt Aradia. Aradia had been there when Feferi needed her most, with council and a soothing smile to help her make sense of the sheer clusterfuck of _fail_ that was her life, prior to her defeat of Condesce. She had even stuck around for the aftermath, which Feferi truly appreciated, because she wasn’t sure she knew how the hell she’d managed to survive becoming an Empress, without her moirail always by her side. The rest of her friends had helped, of course, but the Empire was her burden and as much as they tried to help, there really wasn’t all that much they could do. At the end of the day, they couldn’t make a difference: her head was the one under the crown and her spine the one that trembled under the weight, every now and then. 

She tried hard to look after them, though, and give them the tools they needed to be happy and be allowed to be themselves, without the death sentences hanging over them that would have otherwise crippled them, under her predecessor’s rule. 

Still, Feferi never really shook the feeling that this wasn’t exactly how things had been meant to be, but every time she felt that way, Aradia would smile and kiss her forehead and promise it’d be alright in the end. Feferi believed her, because the alternative was terrifying. 

“Aradia,” Feferi asked, putting down her cup and letting her shoulders slump dramatically, “why am I even doing this?” She offered a small, self-deprecating smile. “Why don’t I just appoint Garfit to deal with all this and go hide under a reef in a nice tropical planet somewhere?” 

“Because they’d actually let you do it and then you’d hate yourself for not even trying,” Aradia said without skipping a beat. And then she smirked mischievously. “And because you’d need to actually interact with them in any capacity, which means you’d have to interact with _him_.” 

The thought of Garfit’s matesprit, all looming glares and disapproving sneers, came to Feferi’s mind like a physical blow. It made her shudder violently. One would have thought that growing up with Eridan’s silly cape and his dumb dragged ws would have inured her to the horror that was Dualscar, but clearly that was not the case. 

“Running an Empire is hard,” Feferi said after a moment, once the disgust had passed, “it’s hard and nobody understands.” 

Aradia giggled. After a moment, Feferi’s laughter joined her as she shook her head. As the chuckles died out, she wrinkled her nose. 

“On related news,” she said, rolling her eyes, “I think I’m starting to sound like Eridan.” 

“Ha!” Aradia snorted and stole a cookie from Feferi’s plate, as opposed to the platter in the center of the table. “You’re not sulking enough.” 

“…god,” Feferi’s giggle trailed off into a startled, weary sigh. “I hadn’t thought about Eridan in a while, now.” 

The thought made her sad, somewhat. The wound was not fresh by any means, and time had helped it scar over, but if not hurt per se, it still throbbed with the ghost of it, whenever she remembered her childhood friend. Feferi’s already morose mood took a nosedive, as she felt, once more, that nagging sensation that all her sacrifices had not been repaid, like she’d expected. 

“It’s been a couple centuries now,” Aradia offered, soothing, and reached a hand to hold Feferi’s. “One would forgive you for not thinking about him all that often.” 

“I do miss him, sometimes,” Feferi admitted, lips quirked into a half frown. “Not as much as I used to, granted, but I still do. I feel like we left so many things hanging, he and I. And then, there are so many things he would have wanted to see and do…” 

Aradia’s grip tightened slightly, and her expression turned insistent. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” she promised, and Feferi felt the inordinately guilty urge to believe her. Aradia shook her hand, frowning. “Feferi.” 

“We could never even found who did it,” Feferi said, frustration edging on her voice. It was something that was left unresolved, and like all things left unresolved, it festered. “I don’t think Karkat or Sollux will ever really forgive me for that, if nothing else. That they never got closure on the issue.” 

“It could have been worse,” Aradia said, voice still soothing, calming. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but a lot of people died, around that time, and not all of them so… cleanly. It was certainly not how he wanted to go, but it wasn’t the worst that could have happened to him.” 

“You wouldn’t think so, though,” Feferi snorted, pulling her hand away to drink her tea sulkily, “considering how Sollux reacted when he found him.” 

It had been centuries, as Aradia said, but nothing lingered more uncomfortably in Feferi’s mind, as a mystery. She was the Empress now, of course, she had more important things to worry about than the hectic last sweep before her coronation, but whenever she thought about it, that same uncomfortable feeling would sink in her gut and no matter where she turned, things would look wrong, somehow. She’d told the truth at least, in that it was less frequent, these days, but still very much poignant, when it happened. She’d look back at her friends and their sacrifices for her cause, at their choices and their regrets, and somehow she’d feel like she’d personally failed them somehow. Garfit assured her, when she dared share her concerns, that it was purely the sign of an Empress truly invested in the wellbeing of her Empire, and Aradia was also quick to praise her for her concern for others. 

But deep down, in the cavernous depths of her soul, Feferi Peixes couldn’t ever really shake the feeling that she’d failed, somehow, even though she’d triumphed in everything she’d set her mind to do. 

“I don’t want to say he overreacted, because it sounds mean-spirited when I do,” Aradia said, after a long pause, clinking her cup on its tiny saucer. She sighed. “But he most certainly overreacted. Considering the alternatives, you’d almost think someone wanted Eridan to get off lightly. They didn’t even ransack the hive.” 

“Oh don’t say that,” Feferi muttered, chidingly, “it’s a horrible thing to say.” 

“Horrible,” Aradia shrugged elegantly, “but true. He didn’t look in pain. He was almost smiling, even! And I’ve seen people die, Feferi. Lots and lots of them, and none of them looked that peaceful once all it’s said and done.” She sighed. “Whatever might have happened that day, we might never really know, but I don’t think Eridan really suffered when he died.” 

“Good luck convincing Karkat or Sollux of that,” Feferi said, a tad dry. _Or me, for that matter_ , she didn’t add, because as much as she enjoyed Aradia’s company, this was the one issue she certainly didn’t want another long, convoluted conversation that went nowhere on. “I do think his death shook us all up,” she added, after a moment. “I don’t think any of us really considered the possibility of dying, before that. I mean, we knew we would, if we failed, but… but it didn’t seem so close up and personal. It was almost an irrational fear, and then Eridan died and it wasn’t so farfetched anymore.” Feferi chuckled a little bitterly at that, shaking her head. “I swear, even Vriska looked shaken, when Sollux broke the news.” 

Aradia gave her a pointed side look. 

And then coughed not quite discretely. 

“I’m fairly sure Vriska was shaken because Sollux immediately accused her of it, though,” she pointed out, one eyebrow arched. 

Feferi shrugged, ignoring the undertone. 

“She was a little more subdued than usual, though, in the aftermath,” she pointed out, and then took another sip. Of course, everyone had been more subdued than usual, considering all the close calls that everyone else, thankfully, dodged that day. “If I’m completely honest,” she added, leaning back on the chair, “I’m not sad he’s gone, anymore. I’m mostly just angry at him for being dead, when everything was starting to look up. And then I’m angry we never found the people responsible for it, because I can’t shuffle my anger at them. It’s just.” 

“An annoying unsolved issue?” Aradia said, eyebrows arched. 

Feferi sighed. 

“He used to be my friend. Not the best of friends, really,” Feferi explained, “but he was friend nonetheless. To all of us, to some degree. We were… getting somewhere, finally. He was pulling his weight. I should have been able to figure out what happened to him. We all should have. But we didn’t and now it’s just… it’s never going to get sorted out.” She sighed loudly. “How can I be a competent Empress and handle an Empire this big, if I can’t even coordinate efforts enough to figure out who killed one of my closest conspirators? How many people are dying right now, whose deaths will go unresolved like his, even now?” 

“No one can know everything, Feferi,” Aradia said, “no one can have all the answers. You just… do what you can and hope for the best! You’re not alone. You have Garfit and the other Lords and Ladies to help you handle things. You’ve kept your other friends safe and happy. Why do you feel so guilty about being happy yourself?” 

“It doesn’t feel right,” Feferi admitted after a moment, chewing on her lower lip. “It never feels like I’ve done enough.” 

“You have,” Aradia replied, in a firm, yet kind tone that booked no objections. “You have done more than anyone could have asked of you. You’re—“ 

There was a polite knock on the door. The only troll who would be allowed this far into the Empress’ quarters was her Head Admin, and Feferi had long since given up hope that Aideen Wukong would stop knocking before announcing herself. 

“The Dolphin is waiting, your Highness,” the tall, thin woman said, expression polite disinterest as usual. When Feferi gave her a slightly blank look for a second too long, she added: “Lord Arione Nereid. He asked for an audience a couple weeks ago. Lord Imoogi suggested you interviewed them and spared a moment for their concerns.” 

Feferi blinked and smiled sheepishly. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” she put down the cup and gave Aradia a wry look. “Talk to you later? I need to get ready.” 

“Sure,” Aradia smiled back, kind – always, always so kind, Aradia, Feferi didn’t know what she’d do without her. “Dinner?” 

“Sounds great,” Feferi replied, already following after Aideen, waving at her moirail as her hair rustled after her, black ropes of braids trailing on the floor. 

Aradia watched her go for a long, long moment, and then the expression on her face fell sharply, like a coin thrown into a well, and in the ripples there was sorrow and annoyance and boredom. 

Things were not as they should be. They hadn’t been for a very, very long while, and she knew it best of all. But it was getting worse, really, if even the others could tell. Maybe it was the influx of destroyed worlds joining and polluting the Great One Mind, screaming the death of their universes as they went. Maybe it was a side effect of being a split off the main branch that she hadn’t known about. 

Either way, she was running out of Time. 

There wasn’t much she could do about it though, except try to nudge her friends into amusements to entertain themselves and maybe make up for the lives they were forced into, in another world. It amused Aradia, though, the realization that her friends were not happy, being given happiness like she’d worked hard to do. They found the lack of challenge and danger to be lacking. She knew the suffering they would have – had already – endured, in a different world, with different rules. What she offered them instead was kinder. Gentler. But they did not thrive in softness, and part of her wondered what would happen if she meddled and tried to give them what they truly wanted. 

Nothing good, probably. 

Before Eridan’s death, she would have gambled. But with him gone, she found she didn’t have much hope for success, as things stood. (And she took a moment to fully appreciate the pun, before draining the contents of the cup, which were no longer _just_ tea and had not been there, a second prior.) 

“Hurry up,” she whispered to her reflection on the depths of the cup. 

Her reflection was Dark and Other, and grinned back almost apologetically in reply. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy April's Fool, guys!
> 
> If you came from Tumblr expecting a Heaven update... well, this isn't it, exactly.
> 
> But this is Relevant To Your Interests, nonetheless. You'll see why, eventually.


End file.
